


Relatively Relativity

by detectivejigsaw



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Age Swap AU, Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Ford Pines Needs a Hug, Gen, Humor, Kid Stans, Kind of a cousin of Relativity Falls, Pines Family Bonding, Second Summer, Stan Pines Has Low Self-Esteem, Stangst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-25
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:40:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26097268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/detectivejigsaw/pseuds/detectivejigsaw
Summary: During their second summer in Gravity Falls, the kids and their grunkles go on a hike in the woods, and come back...well, not quite the same as they were when they left.Rapid hilarity and some angst (because this is me writing this) ensues.
Relationships: Dipper Pines & Ford Pines, Dipper Pines & Mabel Pines, Dipper Pines & Stan Pines, Ford Pines & Mabel Pines, Ford Pines & Stan Pines, Jesus "Soos" Alzamirano Ramirez/Melody, Mabel Pines & Stan Pines
Comments: 110
Kudos: 143





	1. If you go down in the woods today, you're sure of a big surprise

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DarylStorey](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarylStorey/gifts).



> HUGE thanks to DarylStorey for helping me brainstorm this concept and give me ideas for it.
> 
> Warning: this chapter has a VERY BRIEF mention of menstruation. I mean, it's not that big a deal, but if that's something you're squicked out by, just...prepare for it.

“WHOO-HOO!!!! YEAH!!!! LET’S DO THIS!!!!”

Mabel burst out the door of the Stanley Mobile like a multicolored comet, surging towards the trailhead at a speed that nearly broke the sound barrier and barely even being slowed down by the massive purple backpack she was wearing. It wasn’t until she’d reached it that she turned around and realized that her family was still taking their time catching up to her.

“C’mon guys, what’s the hold-up?” she pleaded, sprinting back across the parking lot to them. “We’ve got an adventure to go on, and lots of cool plants and animals to see! Let’s put some hustle in it, people!”

Stan stepped out of the car at a far more leisurely pace, looking less than thrilled about having to be awake at this ungodly hour of the morning (Ford had insisted that they go as early in the day as possible to avoid the heat and mosquitos). He rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hand and muttered, “Hold up, sweetie, not all of us’ve got young legs like you.”

“Ugggghhhh, you guys are so  _ slow _ !” Mabel ran over to Dipper and tugged his hand impatiently. “C’mon, let’s see if we can get to the main trail before the old fossils!”

“Who’re you calling an old fossil?!” Ford demanded in mock indignation. “I can easily get there before  _ you _ , missy!”

“Five bucks says you can’t!”

“You’re on!”

Seconds later they were both racing into the woods, leaving Stan and Dipper in the dust.

Stan glanced down at Dipper. “Surprised you’re not getting in on that.”

The boy grimaced. “You kidding? There’s no way I’d beat either of  _ them _ . Mabel drank a whole pitcher of Mabel Juice this morning, and Ford’s...Ford.”

One bushy gray eyebrow raised, but Stan couldn’t help feeling a little pleased that the kid seemed a lot less insecure about his physical deficiencies than he would have been the summer before, when he was obsessed with trying to become more “manly.”

Now, though, he seemed content for the time being to trot along at Stan’s side, looking around for any unusual creatures that might be in the underbrush and absentmindedly clicking a pen with his thumb, while his other hand already had his pine tree journal open in case he saw something worth sketching.

Up ahead, they could hear excited crashing and whooping; seconds later there was a loud humming noise, followed by Mabel yelling, “Hey, no fair!”

“Completely fair!” Ford retorted, “You brought out your grappling hook, so I get to use the anti-gravity application on my watch!”

Stan and Dipper rolled their eyes in unison.

“Yeah, I’d definitely lose,” Dipper sighed in resignation as they rounded the bend in time to see Mabel trying ineffectively to slow Ford down by leaping from the branch she’d grappled onto and grabbing him around the legs.

* * *

Eventually all members of the Pines family were back on solid ground, and they began their hike. Stan and Ford told the kids stories about some of their adventures on the high seas, and in return the kids talked about what junior high school was like (mostly pretty terrible, since junior high is one of the greatest sources of evil since the Spanish Inquisition). Both old men sympathized with their struggles, remembering all too well how difficult being a teenager was, even when you’d just barely joined the world of angst and acne.

“Of course, it has its good points too,” Ford pointed out. “You don’t have to be in old creaky bodies like we are.”

Dipper harrumphed. “I’d take dealing with that over puberty any day of the week.”

“Yeah, at least then I wouldn’t have to be worried about starting my period,” Mabel said with a grimace.

All three men glanced at her uneasily out of the corner of their eyes.

“...Have you…?” Ford started to ask.

“No, but Mom says I’m old enough that I’ll probably get my first one soon.” Despite how uncomfortable a topic this was for her, she had to smother a giggle at how her grunkles and her brother all looked like they were seconds away from running away screaming.

At last Dipper cleared his throat and changed the subject.

“Besides, if I was a grownup then I could go into stores and buy pretty much whatever I wanted.”

“Yeah!” Mabel brightened. “Like age-inappropriate romance novels, or a bunch of puppies from PetsMart!”

Stan snorted, and affectionately rubbed his knuckles against her head. “Just so long as you never grow up  _ too  _ much.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t,” she promised, before gasping in delight and going over to the side of the trail to admire a particularly vibrant flower.

“Hey, Grunkle Ford, do you know what kinda flower this is?”

Ford came over to see it, and his eyes widened behind their glasses. “...Oh my. I’ve never seen one of those before.”

Stan and Dipper peered curiously over their shoulders at it.

It was, indeed, an exceptionally beautiful flower; it looked kind of like a wild rose, except that instead of being pink, its petals were a deep royal blue, and glowing faintly in the pale morning light.

Almost in unison Ford and Dipper grabbed their journals and started sketching it.

“It looks similar to some of the plants I saw in this one dimension,” Ford murmured, “except those were sentient, and generally tried to eat anyone who got too close.”

Dipper looked uneasy, and after a second he tugged on Mabel’s shoulder, pulling her back from getting too close to it. She was a little annoyed, but didn’t shove him off like she would have the year before.

“Do you think it’s magic?” Dipper asked. “I’m pretty sure the fact that it’s glowing means it’s gotta have some kinda magic, right?”

“In this forest, I wouldn’t doubt that it does,” Ford agreed. He sighed in annoyance. “I  _ knew _ I should have packed my thaumometer for the hike! Why didn’t you remind me to pack my thaumometer, Stanley?”

“Probably cuz I was thinkin’ about more important things like how much I wanted ta go back ta sleep,” Stan retorted.

“Uh, is it just me, or is the glow getting brighter?”

It wasn’t just Dipper.

What’s more, as the four of them watched, the petals began to move, waving back and forth even though there wasn’t that strong of a breeze. As if  _ that _ wasn’t weird enough, the petals started waving a little faster, and as they did, the glow that was on them started to...rise from them.

No, really; before their eyes it lifted into the air as a sort of pollen, doing a little dance in the beam of sunlight above the flower and growing into an ever-increasing spiral, showing a lot more pollen than you’d think would be possible from one single flower.

Dipper blinked, and swallowed nervously.

“Um, guys? In situations like this, this is when really bad things start to happen. Maybe we should-”

The pollen cloud hit him right in the face.

* * *

Apparently it had smacked into everyone else too; as Dipper closed his eyes and coughed and sneezed, he could hear his family making similar noises.

It was  _ everywhere _ , getting in his hair, on his clothes, even  _ inside _ his clothes and making him even itchier than usual, oh  _ come on _ !

Dipper stumbled back, scratching frantically and trying to spit out some of the stuff that had somehow landed in his  _ mouth _ , gross!

“Ugh, what the heck?! That stuff tastes like mothballs!”

Dipper froze.

...That voice didn’t belong to anyone in his family. It was a voice belonging to a young boy, probably someone about his age.

“...Who said that?”

Dipper clamped his hands over his mouth with a frightened squeak when he heard his own voice; it sounded... _ wrong _ , somehow. Like it had actually gotten  _ deeper _ , like in that story he’d told about drinking a potion that made him sound like a TV announcer!

Hesitantly he opened his eyes, blinking away any traces of the pollen that were left, looking for his family-

And came face to face with a startled-looking old woman in a baggy purple sweater.

“Aaaah! Who are you! What did you do to us?!” he demanded, lurching back and putting up his fists. Then he quickly slipped off his backpack and whirled to pull out the knife he kept in there-he didn’t know what use it’d be against a witch or whatever she was but it was better than nothing-but then two things happened at once.

One: a sudden sharp pain locked up in the small of his back, nearly pitching him to the ground with how bad it was.

Two: he got a good look at his hands.

Something was wrong with Dipper’s hands.

They were twice the size he remembered them being when he first woke up this morning, and all weird and wrinkly-looking, with a few blue veins standing out against the knuckles.

Dipper let his backpack fall to the ground, stammering in horror.

“What-what the-”

“...Dipper?” the old woman’s voice quavered behind him. “Is that you? It’s me, Mabel.”

Dipper slowly turned back around, managing to straighten up with an effort, and looked at the woman again, more closely this time.

She looked just as frightened and confused as he was right now, with a lock of her long gray hair clenched between her fingers on the left side of her head and being wrung in her hands. Her sweater looked a lot like the one Mabel had been wearing, except older and less sparkly.

Dipper looked into her eyes.

“...Mabel?”

“Yeah, it’s me, bro-bro.” She tried to smile.

Just then something moved in the corner of Dipper’s line of vision, and he turned his head to see two boys standing there and rubbing pollen out of their eyes.

One of them was wearing a tiny tan trench coat and a red woolly beanie, and when he opened his mouth to cough out some more pollen Dipper could see he had a tooth missing. The other one wore a red turtleneck with a blue coat over it, and had a pair of large spectacles perched on the end of his nose. He staggered a little, and pushed them up with two fingers. Allowing Dipper to see that his hand had an extra finger on the end.

The boy saw Dipper staring at him in dawning horror, and his eyes widened.

“Dipper? Are you-are you and Mabel old?!”

“Grunkle Stan?! Grunkle Ford?!” Mabel crouched down and stared at the boys slack-jawed. “Are you guys young?!”

* * *

There was a moment of silence.

Then a flock of birds was startled by four voices all screaming in unison.


	2. Some adjustments required

Eventually, the worst of the noise subsided.

Only for Mabel to take another look at her boy grunkles, and make them nearly jump out of their skins with her amazed and delighted squeal of, “Oh my  _ gosh _ , you guys are so CUUUUUTEEEE!!!!”

“Gah!” Stan saw the impending doom, and tried too late to escape from one of her arms snatching him up into a hug. Seconds later Ford was grabbed by her other arm, and made a strangled noise as he had what felt like all of his air squeezed out of him.

Mabel actually lifted both of them off their feet in her enthusiasm, swinging them back and forth with far more strength than someone her age should have been capable of when they hadn’t spent years living on the streets or traveling the multiverse. “You guys are just the most precious little pair of sweeties I’ve ever seen! As soon as we get home I’m making you both tiny sweaters and taking a hundred pictures!!”

“Mabel-leggo-we need air-” Stan struggled, and finally just rolled up her sleeve and licked her arm. Even though she was more often than not guilty of using the same tactic, it was enough to make her release them.

Dipper was by now curled up in the fetal position against a tree, rocking back and forth and gasping, “Not again, not again, this can’t be happening again!” He glanced down at himself. “I mean, at least I’m still in my own body, so that’s nice.” He resumed rocking. “But this still  _ can’t be happening _ !”

“Okay, okay, everybody STOP!”

Ford waited until all eyes were on him, and then climbed up onto a nearby convenient tree stump. He adjusted his glasses in a way that looked soothingly Ford-like even in his tiny child body and higher-pitched voice. “Let’s all just calm down for a second.”

He glanced over at the flower, and saw with concern that it had wilted, with all the petals lying in a heap around the stem.

_ That can’t be good. _

“...I think we all need to go home so I can examine that-” he pointed to the remains of the flower- “and figure out what kind of spell it cast on us. This is nothing to panic over.”

“ _ Nothing to panic over?! _ ” Dipper demanded. Fascinating; even with his voice fully developed he still managed to make it crack to an astonishing degree. “Look at me, Grunkle Ford! I’m  _ old _ !”

“Yeah, and if ya don’t figure out how ta calm down you’re probably gonna start giving yourself a heart attack!” Stan said.

“Stanley! That is  _ not _ helpful!” Ford snapped, hopping off the stump and going to his nephew’s side.

“...Sorry.” Stan joined him, and Mabel crouched down on Dipper’s other side. Three hands rubbed his shoulders as he pushed his head between his knees.

After a minute Dipper took a few deep breaths, and then slowly got to his feet. He still looked shaken up by the situation, but at least he had calmed down a little. “Ugh, ow. Do your guys’s joints creak this much when you have to stand up?”

“Oh yeah. It’s even worse first thing in the morning.” Stan stretched his back, and then his eyes widened in delight. “Whoa, wait. It’s been  _ years _ since I’ve been able ta do that without it feelin’ all messed up!” He looked down at his legs, and a wide smile stretched across his cheeks.

Before Ford could stop him, he took off running back down the trail with a whoop.

“Stanley! Stanley, get back here! We have to-”

Stan was already practically out of sight. Ford groaned, and shrugged off his now-giant backpack which he had barely realized he was still wearing. He glanced at the-well, technically the children, they still had the minds of thirteen-year-olds. “Find something to put that flower in, would you?”

Then he chased after his brother.

* * *

Ford was disconcerted when he realized, very quickly, that his body had reverted back to the physical limitations he had possessed at this age.

Back then, while it was all well and good to go running around on the beach with Stan, chasing the waves or the sea gulls or each other, he had hated exercise when there were far more enjoyable options available, like reading his books or just sitting and drawing something. He hadn’t gotten into the habit of going for long walks in the woods, or been forced to spend a lot of time running for his life from interdimensional bounty hunters.

Soon enough Ford was forced to slow down because of the stitch in his side, and double over gasping with the need to get more air into his lungs.

He clenched his fists against his knees in frustration, because he  _ knew _ that he was capable of running faster than this, at least when he was in his regular body, he’d done it a million times, and now he  _ couldn’t _ .

A few moments later he heard the thud of boots pounding against the ground, and a familiar out-of-breath voice.

“Whoo! What a  _ rush _ ! If I tried doin’ that when I was old I’d have ta sit on the couch for a week afterwards! Ha! Who’s an old fossil  _ now _ , Mabel?”

Coming from the man (boy? Shoot, that was going to get confusing pretty fast) who was capable of punching out giant squid monsters and outrunning angry leprechauns while carrying a heavy treasure chest, that was definitely an exaggeration. But Ford was too busy trying to stop wheezing to call him on it.

“...You okay, Poindexter?” Stan asked, reaching out and touching his shoulder.

Ford lifted his eyes until they met his twin’s. “W-We...should probably...go back to the kids. I realize...you’re excited...about rediscovering your youth...but they’re not enjoying this as much as you are.”

Stan gave him a chagrined grimace. “...Oh yeah. Sorry.”

Ford patted his arm as he straightened up. “‘S’ okay. I get it. It feels good to get some of those aches out of my bones.”

“Yeah, no kidding!” Stan looked down at his arms with wide eyes. “Can you believe these things were ever this skinny?”

Ford snorted. “Your face is back to being mostly nose, though.”

“Hey!” Stan slugged him in the arm. “Take a look in the mirror, genius-you’re not much better off!”

Ford punched him back, giggling.

He was a little surprised by how natural a sound that felt to make, now that he was no longer an old man.

It turned out that Dipper had emptied out part of one of the water bottles, and then dug the flower out-roots and all, just in case-before placing it and its petals inside. He’d even managed to get some pollen samples and add them to the inside of the bottle.

“Good job, Dipper!” Ford praised him, accepting it and slipping it into his backpack. Then he straightened up, puffing out his chest. “Okay, let’s get this back to the lab, and turn ourselves back to normal!”

Mabel cooed and clasped her hands together at her chin. “Awww, you sound so adorable when you say stuff like that now!”

...Ford couldn’t help feeling like she was spoiling the gravitas of the moment. He tried to ignore Stan’s wide smirk, and adjusted his coat collar with a cough before he started marching back the way they’d come.

* * *

A new problem arose when they reached the car.

Stan dug into his pocket and pulled out the keys, and just as he was unlocking the car Dipper grabbed his shoulder.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Stan raised an eyebrow at him, in a way that was still very grunkle-like despite his young face. “Gettin’ ready ta drive us home.”

“Grunkle Stan, you’re thirteen now! You can’t be the one driving!”

The boy folded his arms. “Uh, last I checked,  _ you _ didn’t exactly have a driver’s license, kid.”

Dipper faltered. “I-I know how to drive the golf cart!”

“Not the same. Besides, remind me how many times you crashed it last summer?”

“Oh, like  _ your _ driving is any safer!” Dipper lunged for the keys.

Stan jumped out of reach. “Fair point, but this is still  _ my _ car! And nobody but  _ nobody _ is allowed ta drive it but me!”

Dipper chased after him, meaning that they were suddenly running around the car, with Stan defiantly holding the keys out of his elderly nephew’s reach. “We’re gonna get pulled over if the cops see you behind the wheel, Grunkle Stan! Be reasonable!”

“Never! I’m not lettin’ you scratch up my car cuz you-”

Mabel finally stepped between them. “Boys, boys! I have a solution that’ll fix  _ everything _ !”

* * *

Five minutes later, Dipper was in the driver’s seat, with Stan sitting on his lap, head tucked against his shoulder. Dipper’s feet worked the gas and brakes at his grunkle’s command, while Stan did the steering and watched the road with his newly improved vision. Neither of them looked pleased with this solution, but they’d had to admit that they hadn’t been able to think of a better one.

Mabel and Ford sat in the back, with the water bottle containing the flower clenched in Ford’s lap. He stared at it thoughtfully, scribbling notes in his journal and thinking about other experiences with enchanted plants, and how they might compare to this one.

Unnoticed by him, Mabel had pulled a cloth tape measure out of her pocket and was taking his measurements; already she was thinking about what kind of sweaters to make him and Stan. Because on the one hand, both of them seemed to like the color red, and looked pretty good in it; on the other hand, this was a special occasion, and maybe she should make something in blue, or green, or gold. Maybe all of them together? Decisions, decisions…

She was still thinking about her options when the car pulled up in front of the Mystery Shack. Stan turned the engine off, and unbuckled himself and Dipper.

“Geez you’ve got bony knees,” he said dryly as he looked up at his nephew.

Dipper snorted. “Now you know how I feel.”

Fortunately Stan’s mood had improved enough for him to grin before opening the car door and bounding up the steps of the porch.

“Soos, we’re home!” he called as he opened the door.

A few seconds later there was a startled yelp, and a thud.

A little bit after that, the front door opened again, and Stan peered uneasily out at his family.

“...Guys? I think I just killed Soos.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry, I didn't really kill Soos.  
> I'm not THAT big of a monster.  
> Usually.


	3. If you give a grunkle Mabel Juice

_ Whoa...that was a crazy weird dream…where am I? _

Soos slowly opened his eyes-and screamed again when he saw an unfamiliar, wrinkly old man staring down at him anxiously.

“Aaaaah! Who are you?! What do you want?! Where’s Mr. Pines?!”

The old man sighed, and leaned his chin on his hand. “This is gonna be a recurring thing, isn’t it?”

Something about that voice...plus the thick lumberjack hat perched on his head that looked a lot like the one Wendy used to wear…

“Wait a sec.” Soos sat up, realizing that he was on the sofa in his break room (even if he was technically in charge now, he still used it as such). He narrowed his eyes at the old man. “...Dipper?”

Dipper smiled at him-and even though he was all gray and wrinkled now, Soos could see his buddy peeking out through his face. “Yeah, Soos. It’s me. There was...a bit of an incident on our hike.”

Before Soos could ask for more details, the door burst open again, and the same kid who’d scared him earlier came tramping in, followed by an old woman in a purple sweater who  _ had _ to be a newly-old Mabel.

“Is he awake yet?”

“Grunkle Stan!” Dipper scolded, whirling around to glare at him, “I told you to wait until I called you!”

“Yeah, yeah.” He brushed his curls out of his face, and grinned at Soos shamelessly, showing that he had a tooth missing. “How d’ya like the new look?”

Soos’s mouth opened and shut a couple of times as he looked over the little guy standing in front of him. Finally he asked, voice quivering a little, “...Mr. Pines?”

“Uh-huh. New and improved!” He put his hands on his hips and puffed out his skinny chest as far as it would go.

The smile was wiped off his face when Soos finally registered the truth that he’d been resisting, but could not be ignored: “You’re  _ adorable _ now, Mr. Pines!!!!”

Immediately his still-pretty-bushy eyebrows drew together in a scowl. “Say that again and you’re fired!”

Soos shrank away at once. Anything but that!

“He’s the boss of the Mystery Shack now, you can’t fire him!” old-Mabel protested.

“I’m the one who  _ gave _ him the job, so I can so!”

“But you  _ shouldn’t _ ! Not for this!”

Stan folded his arms and turned away, grumbling.

“Wait a minute. If you guys have switched ages, does that mean that Other Mr. Pines is ad-” he saw the warning glare in Stan’s eye, and quickly changed words- “a kid now too?”

“Yeah; he’s down in the basement analyzing the thing that made us like this.” Mabel sat down on the other end of the sofa. “We were hiking, and saw this really cool flower…”

* * *

Ford realized fairly quickly some more of the deficiencies of his new body. For one thing, when he got to the basement he started to put on his lab coat-only to remember after doing so that his arms and legs were both a lot smaller, so very quickly he was swamped in seemingly an avalanche of white. He tried rolling up the sleeves, and then pinning them up with safety pins, until at last he gave up in frustration and just hung it back on the rack (causing him further annoyance, because while he wasn’t  _ that _ short, he still had to stand on tiptoe to get it on the right hook).

At least he was still capable of wearing safety goggles, he thought ruefully as he climbed up onto one of his chairs and pulled on a pair of now-absolutely- _ huge _ latex gloves.

Then he forgot about his predicament for a while, as he examined the flower.

* * *

“...so until we figure out what the flower did to us, looks like we’re kinda stuck like this,” Dipper concluded.

Soos nodded thoughtfully. “Dude. This is intense.” Then his eyes widened. “Wait, if you guys got stuck like this, would that mean that you little dudes-” he glanced at Dipper and Mabel, and then corrected himself- “little old-old but  _ used  _ to be little-dudes would die sooner, cuz you’re like super old now?”

“Hey!” Stan protested. “We’re not  _ that _ old!”

“You said you were pushing  _ seventy _ !” Mabel squeaked, eyes going wide with panic.

Dipper already looked like he was about to start hyperventilating again.

“...I was lying! I faked it on my driver’s license so I could get lots of senior citizen discounts and stuff! We’re only, like, fifty-seven! Almost fifty-eight!” Stan quickly scurried around until he was between his elderly niblings, and put his arms as far around them as he could reach. “And either way, there’s no way we’re gonna let you guys get stuck like this, okay? We’re gonna figure this out, and get you back to normal, and you won’t haveta be stuck in gross old bodies for a long,  _ looong _ time.”

“Hey!” Dipper swatted the back of his head; Stan grinned at him shamelessly.

“I’m just tellin’ it like it is, gramps.”

“Being turned into a kid again is making you even more of a twerp than usual,” Dipper scolded, though while wearing a smile as he gave him a playful jab in the ribs, and Mabel dove in from his other side to vigorously noogie him.

* * *

It was another hour before Ford emerged into the light. His eyebrows were pinched together, and he was chewing his lip as he stepped into the kitchen-none of those was a good sign.

“What’s the word, Sixer?” Stan asked; he was standing on a chair and making Stancakes, under the belief that having breakfast for lunch would, if nothing else, make everyone feel just a little bit better.

Ford grimaced. “Well, the good news is that my analysis indicates the pollen is not toxic, and doesn’t seem to be inherently harmful. The bad news is, I’m having trouble figuring out what they’re made of or what kind of magic is in them that caused us to turn into...this.” He gestured between the four of them. “It would be much easier if we could collect a live specimen of the plant-we’ll have to go back to the forest and see if we can find one.”

“Good idea!” Mabel chirped, pulling a pitcher of sparkling pink liquid out of the fridge.

Stan brought the skillet over to the table, and gave his brother an encouraging look. “C’mon, Sixer! You’ll think better when you get somethin’ in your gut!”

Ford sighed, and sat down at the table with far less resistance than he usually would have. “What’s on the menu?”

“Stancakes-”

“And Mabel Juice!”

“Pass on the Mabel Juice,” Dipper muttered, filling his cup with water from the sink.

Mabel scoffed at him. “Come  _ on _ , Dipper, you’ve never even  _ tried _ it!” She filled her own cup with a generous amount.

“I don’t  _ need _ to try it to know that it would probably send me into premature cardiac arrest.  _ Especially _ now that I’m old.”

Mabel stuck out her tongue at him, and then lifted it to her lips and began gulping it down.

And a few seconds later she spat it out, gagging.

“Ugh! What’s  _ wrong _ with this stuff?!” She grabbed up the pitcher and stared at it, making the plastic dinosaurs turn and spin around in their liquid prison.

Dipper went to her side in concern. “Are you okay?!”

“Yeah, I just-I don’t understand! I just  _ made _ this stuff this morning, it should be fine! But it tastes all wrong, almost like it’s-” Mabel froze, and her eyes went wide with the sort of horror that only comes from the realization of impending doom. “... _ Too sweet _ .”

Stan snorted after a second. “Now ya know how I feel about that stuff.”

Mabel shook her head a tiny bit. “No, I-I love Mabel Juice! I can’t not like it anymore, just cuz I’m old!”

Ford leaned over and patted her hand. “It’s a very normal thing for tastes to change as you age.”

Mabel’s eyes had become very big and shiny, and her lip trembled; Ford realized that maybe the wasn’t the best train of thought to go down. “...Don’t worry, we’ll figure out how to change you back so you can drink all the Mabel Juice you want.”

She managed a tiny smile.   
  


“Wait a second…”

Stan abruptly grabbed the pitcher, and poured some of the juice into his erstwhile coffee mug. “If it’s too sweet for you now that you’re old, maybe I can actually like this stuff now!” He looked at Ford with wiggling eyebrows. “You wanna try some?”

Ford grimaced. “No thank you.”

Stan shrugged. “Eh, just as well. You probably couldn’t handle it.”

Ford’s eyes narrowed, and he shoved his cup over towards Stan. “Fill it up, Stanley.”

He knew, and he knew that Stan knew, that he’d walked right into that one, but he didn’t flinch away as it was filled almost to the brim.

“Um, guys?” Dipper said, for the second time that day. “Maybe this is a bad idea-”

They each took a drink.

* * *

**Five minutes later**

“I HAVEN’T BEEN ABLE TO HANDLE THIS MUCH SUGAR SINCE I WAS IN MY TWENTIES!!!!” Stan hollered, tearing across the back yard so fast he was almost a blur.

“THIS STUFF WOULD’VE BEEN GREAT FOR HELPING ME GET THROUGH COLLEGE! I COULD’VE STAYED UP AND STUDIED EXTRA HARD FOR ALLLLL MY EXAMS!” Ford yelled back, just before trying and failing to turn a cartwheel. He landed clumsily on his rear, and the two boys nearly fell over laughing at each other.

“I feel like I could run a mile! Or climb a mountain! Or run up a mountain! Has the world always been this colorful? Am I talking too loud?”

“I don’t know! I’m really not the best person to ask right now, because I’m under the influence just as much as you are!”

“Not so under it you can’t remember all your nerd vocab, though!” Stan cackled, and then tilted his head thoughtfully. “Huh...I shoulda said nerd words, so it’d rhyme. Okay, do over! You can still remember all your nerd words!”

From the porch, Dipper shook his head in mute horror. Mabel, at least, had recovered from her despondency over her new aversion to Mabel Juice enough to record a video of her hyperactive mini-grunkles-who, it appeared, were now wrestling each other in the grass, laughing wildly.

“...We should really focus on going back to the trail and trying to find that flower,” Dipper pointed out.

“Yeah, well, tell that to them.” Mabel pointed to the boys. Neither of them seemed to be in any condition to focus on something important like finding an enchanted flower.

Dipper’s shoulders sagged. “We’re not gonna get this fixed today.”

“That’s not the worst thing in the world, though, is it?” Mabel smiled. “It’s been years since they’ve been able to have this much fun together; we should give them a chance to enjoy it.”

“But what if there’s some kind of dangerous side-effects to our being stuck in these bodies for so long? I don’t wanna be stuck like this all summer!”

“Grunkle Ford said he didn’t think the pollen stuff was dangerous! Just relax, bro-bro!” Mabel slung her arm around his shoulders and squeezed. “They deserve a chance to be kids again, just for a little while!”

Dipper still had misgivings...but he had to admit that seeing Stan and Ford chasing each other around and throwing grass at each other was pretty cute to watch.

Even so, he hoped things could go back to normal (or what passed as normal for the Pines family) soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm in my late twenties, and I'm pretty sure I wouldn't want to drink Mabel Juice. As much as I like sugary food, my family has a history of diabetes, and that stuff just seems like a disaster waiting to happen.


	4. The chapter that begins and ends with slumber

By the time the mini-grunkles’ newfound manic energy wore off, it was almost evening; they slowly staggered back to the front porch, covered in dirt and grass stains, and neither one seeming really capable of staying on his feet for much longer.

“Well...that was fun…” Ford mumbled as he pulled himself up the first step, “...gotta get back to work now…”

“Work?” Stan blinked a little bewilderedly. “Whatsis...work...y’speak of?”

He nearly pitched forward and smashed his nose before Dipper hurriedly caught him. Mabel did the same for Ford; he was asleep before his feet were even off the ground.

“Wow,” Dipper muttered as they carried them inside, “do you think _we’re_ this heavy when we’re our normal size?”

“Who’re ya callin’ fat?” Stan grumbled at him before yawning, and letting his eyes droop shut.

Dipper looked at the sleeping boys thoughtfully. “...I guess we gotta put them to bed?”

Mabel smiled. “I know just the place.” She went over to Grunkle Stan’s big yellow armchair and set Ford down into it, before tugging off his shoes and his jacket for him. He stirred a little at her fussing, but not enough to actually wake up, just snuggling into the thick padding.

Dipper shrugged, and put Stan on the other side, helping him out of his own coat and shoes. However, instead of leaning back Stan ended up flopping over, so his head and part of his shoulder landed in Ford’s lap.

“Oops.”

Dipper reached out to straighten him, but Mabel grabbed his arm.

“Don’t you _dare_ move them.” Her eyes were wide with delight at being in such high levels of cuteness proximity, and her phone was back out.

With a roll of his eyes Dipper went to hang up their coats and then retrieve a blanket, which he draped around both boys. Then, in the interest of his family’s self-preservation, he went into the kitchen and poured the rest of the Mabel Juice down the sink, before cleaning up the remains of their lunch.

* * *

By the time he came back Mabel had probably overshot her phone’s storage capacity with the amount of photos she’d taken, and he was forced to drag her away so the boys could sleep undisturbed.

“...So, what do we do now?” Mabel asked as they left the room. “Do you wanna play cards? I’m pretty sure old people usually play cards while kids are sleeping. Or backgammon! I’ve always wanted to learn how to play backgammon!”

Dipper didn’t answer; he’d paused midstep, his eyes trained on the full-length mirror which Stan (technically Soos, now) kept down here for some reason.

It was the first time he’d really gotten the chance to see what he looked like in his old body; he was mesmerized. He moved his hand, watching his reflection’s hand move with it, trying to convince himself that this really was his body now.

He hadn’t expected to be so...big. He’d been startled seeing just his old wrinkly hands, but seeing all of him at once, with his head about three feet higher up than normal and the torso filled out so he actually had shoulders now, was even more of a shock. Dipper guessed he should count himself lucky that his clothes had grown along with him; he was not in a hurry to see himself _naked_ in addition to being old (ugh, please try to erase that thought, mind).

He didn’t have the imposing posture Ford did, or the amount of muscles either of his grunkles had; but that was probably a given since he hadn’t gone through the same stuff as them.

Gingerly Dipper pulled off his hat, and got a good look at his thick gray hair. It was only mildly comforting to see that he had a lighter stripe like Ford, so maybe it made him look kind of distinguished.

“...At least there’s no bald spots,” Mabel pointed out, ever the optimist. She’d been staring at herself too, squeezing her face in an attempt to smooth out some of the wrinkles. “And look-my braces are gone!” She pulled back her lips so he could see her (slightly stained, but indeed braces-free) teeth.

Dipper managed a smile. “Yeah, looks like you won’t be a metal mouth forever.”

“Hey!” Mabel swatted his arm; they both laughed.

“I dunno if I like being all gray, though,” she admitted after a minute. “Maybe I should dye it. Like put in some pink or blue highlights or something. What do you think?”

“...I think you’d look like one of those horrifying bingo hall grandma stereotypes.”

Mabel blew a raspberry at him. “You have no appreciation for art!”

They both nearly jumped out of their skin when Soos’s voice asked from behind them, “So what’s the plan, dudes?”

In all the chaos of watching their mini-grunkles dealing with the effects of Mabel Juice, they’d forgotten about the former handyman-now-boss. And, they realized as they turned around, they’d forgotten about his girlfriend and his grandmother, who were also living here now.

Soos gave the twins an apologetic smile. “I got Melody and Abuelita caught up on current events so they wouldn’t be shocked when they saw you guys.” He leaned in and whispered in as conspiratorial a voice as he was capable of, “They’ve both taken like a million pictures of the little Mr. Pineses.”

“Join the club, ladies!” Mabel beamed. “I’m gonna need to import all of mine into a computer or something to clear up some space!”

Melody giggled. “I know, right? They look so precious right now, it’s hard to stop!”

“Yeah, I’m totally including a chapter about this in my fanfiction.” Soos grinned. Then he composed himself. “Seriously though-what’s the plan for getting you dudes back to normal?”

Dipper sighed. “Well, tomorrow we’re gonna go see if we can find more of those flowers so Grunkle Ford can study them better. Maybe get some still-active pollen samples or something.”

“Sounds good, sounds good.” Soos nodded sagely.

“Maybe you oughta wear gas masks or hazmat suits or something so you don’t get affected by them again,” Melody pointed out.

“Ooh, good point. I’ll remind Grunkle Ford about that when he wakes up.”

“Anything we can do to help?” Abuelita asked.

Dipper smiled at her. “For now, we probably just need you guys to keep the Shack running like normal. But if we need anything, we’ll let you know.”

“You got it, dudes.”

* * *

Luckily Soos was able to lend Dipper some of his pajamas (which were _super_ baggy on him even now, but better than sleeping in his clothes), and Mabel got one of Abuelita’s spare nightgowns, so they both had something to sleep in.

Soos had had the option of turning Stan’s room into his own, since he was Mr. Mystery now, but he hadn’t felt worthy of the honor, so he mostly still slept in the break room, using a new couch that folded out into a bed. Melody slept in the room that used to hold all the cursed wax figures, and Abuelita had cleaned out another storage room for herself, so the kids were still sleeping in the attic. Soos promised that they or their mini-grunkles could come wake him up if they needed anything, and the little groups said goodnight to each other before heading to their respective rooms.

Waddles, who apparently had been sleeping on Mabel’s bed all day, was a little startled when he first laid eyes on them, and didn’t seem to recognize his master at first. But after a minute of sniffing at her hands and skirt, he seemed to realize that she was still herself, and just accepted that she looked a little weird now. As she got into bed he happily climbed up and snuggled against the crook of her arm, grunting contentedly.

“Goodnight, Dipper!” she called to her brother.

“Night, Mabel.” He was in the process of writing the day’s events in his journal next to his drawing of the flower, and didn’t bother looking up.

“Don’t stay up all night; you’re a senior citizen now, so you need your beauty sleep.”

“Whatever.”

Truth be told, part of Dipper wasn’t sure if he’d be capable of falling asleep-and not just because his joints kept making funny creaky noises every time he moved. Too many thoughts kept running around in his brain, worrying about how they were going to fix this, what if they couldn’t, were they going to have to raise their mini-grunkles from now on, what were their parents going to think about all this, what if what if what if...

But when he finished his entry in his journal and turned out the light, he lay back and closed his eyes-

-and the next time he opened them, it was to morning light filtering in through the window.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Attaboy, Dipper. Get some sleep so you'll stop worrying for just a little bit.


	5. Ford gets forcefully decaffeinated and Dipper gets chest hair

Seeing how freakishly big and hairy his arms were (at least compared to how they were just yesterday) told Dipper that no, it wasn’t a dream, he really was an old man now. Great.

Mabel was already out of bed, so Dipper started to sit up-and immediately tried not to groan as he realized that Stan’s comments about how much your joints ached first thing in the morning at this age had not been exaggerated.

_ Oh man...I hope my body’s not going to be this badly in shape when I get old for real. Is my back  _ supposed _ to make that kind of noise? _

“Ow, ow ow ow…” Dipper swung his legs around to the side, and went through the arduous process of standing up. Once he was actually on his feet, he felt more or less okay.

Until he nearly jumped out of his skin at the sounds of yelling from downstairs.

Dipper sprinted downstairs as fast as he could (again, not as fast as when he was thirteen), following the sounds of yelling towards the kitchen. A million horrifying scenarios flitted through his thoughts as an explanation.

Had a monster broken in and attacked? Was something on fire? Worse, was some _ one _ on fire?!

He skidded into the doorway-and saw Mabel standing with a hand pressed flat against one of the cupboards, keeping it shut, while Grunkle Ford appeared to be trying to climb her, and Grunkle Stan stood at the stove looking far too amused at the level of conflict that was taking place (then again, this  _ was _ Stan we’re talking about).

“What in the  _ heck _ is going on here?!” Dipper demanded.

Ford finally seemed to manifest how undignified his current behavior was; he immediately let go of Mabel and hopped away, attempting to smooth down his clothes. “Ah-good morning, Dipper. We-were just-having a small disagreement on proper morning sustenance-”

“Mabel wasn’t lettin’ him have coffee,” Stan translated.

“He’s too young for it!” Mabel retorted.

“Oh for-we are  _ not  _ actual children, Mabel! In case you’ve forgotten, I am more than forty years your senior!” Ford looked a little like he was about to stamp his foot.

“Not right now, you’re not!”

“I’m afraid I’m gonna have to side with Mabel on this,” Dipper reluctantly admitted. Immediately he found himself having to shrink away from his mini-grunkle’s withering glare. “Considering what you guys were like with the Mabel Juice yesterday, it’s probably not good for you to get high amounts of sugar or caffeine in your systems!”

Ford looked like he was about to snarl out something indignant-but then the truth of Dipper’s words sank in, and he slumped down in reluctant acknowledgment. Grumbling wordlessly, he stomped to the fridge and yanked out the carton of apple juice that was in the door.

Stan snickered-and then swore when he realized that the batch of scrambled eggs he was making had started burning due to his not paying attention.

“Language!” Ford scolded.

“Sorry. Guess I’ve spent too long away from kids.”

Mabel blinked. “Wait. Since we’re the grownups now, does that mean  _ we _ can use those words?”

“No!” Stan hurriedly shuffled the eggs around until he’d gathered the blackened ones into his spatula, allowing him to shake them into the trash. “I don’t wanna haveta explain ta your mom why you came home with a bad case of sailor mouth!”

“We’re in junior high now, Grunkle Stan,” Dipper reminded him as he sat down, “We already hear all of them several times a day.”

“No excuse.”

Dipper was tempted to try figuring out how to make coffee just to see what it tasted like (okay, and  _ maybe  _ to annoy Grunkle Ford a little). But he decided he wasn’t ready to try experimenting with the process yet, and so he just had juice along with eggs and cereal.

“Where’s Soos?” he asked as the rest of his family sat down.

“They got some early tourists, so he’s showing them around the exhibits while Melody runs the gift shop,” said Mabel. “And it’s shopping day, so Abuelita’s getting groceries.”

“Hope they weren’t freaked out by all the racket.”

* * *

**_Elsewhere in the Shack_ **

Soos nearly jumped out of his skin at the sounds of yelling, which could be heard from all the way on this side of the house, but he rolled with it.

“Whoa, sounds like the Summerween ghosts have started up early this year.”

A small child at the front of the group raised her hand. “What’s Summerween?”

Soos knelt and put a large hand on her tiny shoulder. “We have much to discuss.”

* * *

For a little bit everyone ate in relative silence; finally, though, Dipper cleared his throat. “Melody suggested we should try wearing some kind of protective gear in case the flowers act up again.”

“I made us all masks!” Mabel held up four strips of brightly colored cloth with elastic straps at the ends, and their names stitched onto them surrounded by rainbows and flowers and stuff.

“That probably depends on whether it was just ingestion of the pollen that changed us, or if they needed to make contact with us,” Ford mused, rubbing his chin. “We should probably prepare for both outcomes, just in case. I think I have what we need in the basement.”

He hopped off his chair-and paused to give himself a slightly annoyed/confused glare at having done so, before shaking his head and making his way out of the kitchen.

When he returned, it was with a large, clunky-looking watch thing strapped to his wrist.

“This generates a small force field system that can completely envelope the flower and prevent the pollen from spreading; it also makes things levitate.”

“Whoa.” Stan’s eyes grew ridiculously big and shiny. “Can I use it?”

Ford narrowed his eyes at his brother. “Are you planning to try and pick pockets with it?”

“...No…”

“Uh-huh. I think I’ll hold onto it for now.”

“Hmph. Whatever.”

* * *

The mini-grunkles were still in their clothes from yesterday, which were kind of filthy, so at Mabel’s insistence they changed into some of Dipper’s spare things.

Stan held up a blue-and-white striped T-shirt, tilting his head quizzically. “If you got all these clothes, why the heck do you wear the same outfit every day?”

“And when do you take time to wash it?” Ford asked, wrinkling his nose.

Dipper flushed. “Don’t you guys start!”

“HA! See, I’m not the only one who thinks your hygiene practices are gross!” Mabel crowed triumphantly.

Dipper shoved his hands in his pockets and stalked out of the attic.

Eventually everyone took the time to get dressed before their new expedition.

Mabel had made herself a brand new sweater (purple, with “HOT GRANDMA” written on it in sparkly bright blue letters), and borrowed one of Abuelita’s old dresses to wear under it. Dipper, meanwhile, had pointedly put his clothes in the wash, and borrowed a pair of Stan’s khaki shorts and a red Hawaiian shirt.

_ Well, at least I finally have chest hair _ , he thought as he buttoned up the shirt, examining his torso in the mirror. At least there was one thing to enjoy about old age.

Unfortunately, it was accompanied by a large quantity of stomach hair...and arm hair...and ear hair...basically a lot more hair than he’d been expecting.

He was only stopped from seeing if shaving some of it off would be more effective than it had been for Stan by the realization that his family was probably waiting for him.

“Took ya long enough,” Stan scolded when he returned to the kitchen. “C’mon, let’s  _ go _ already!”

They headed out the door-and immediately ran into Wendy, who had at last showed up for work.

_ Aw, crap. _

Dipper realized he had forgotten to text her about what had happened.

“Uh-hey, Wendy. Believe it or not, it’s us.”

She did a long, slow blink. Then, raising one eyebrow, she asked, “...Do I  _ want _ to know?”

“We had an accident with a magic flower,” Mabel explained. “So now we gotta get another one to figure out how to change us back to normal.”

“Ya wanna come?” Stan asked.

Wendy smiled at him. “That’d be awesome, Mr. Pines, but I got work.”

Stan’s face contorted into an expression of shock. “Wait, what?  _ You’re _ passing up a chance ta slack off work?!” He reached up a tiny hand to feel Wendy’s forehead. “Are you feeling okay?!”

She snorted and shoved him off. “Soos pays me extra if I stay through a whole shift. And I’m trying to save up for a car, so I need all the help I can get.”

“...So the secret to keeping you from slacking off was to pay you more?” Stan pondered this for a bit...and then shook his head. “Nah, it’s not worth it.”

Wendy laughed and punched his shoulder. “Later, dorks.” She started to walk past, before spinning around on one heel. “Oh, Dipper-loving the new hair. Gives you a kinda silver fox look.”

...Despite himself, Dipper couldn’t help blushing and grinning as he ran a hand through his hair. And then he sighed as he ignored a smirking Mabel and headed to the car, ready to share joint custody of the driver’s seat with Stan again.

The fact that Wendy only ever saw him as attractive when he was way older than her was probably a sign that he’d made the right choice in stopping pining over her.

Heh heh...pining.

Because he was a Pines.

...Oh crap, now he was starting to think dad jokes were funny.

_ We gotta get changed back soon. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...Sorry, Wendip fans, but I just don't see it happening.  
> It's not even the age difference, so much as that personality-wise, she strikes me as just staying a "cool big sis" figure to both him and Mabel.  
> (Also I'm kind of biased towards Dipcif-)  
> Nothing, you didn't see that.  
> Moving on.


End file.
